For the past few years, I've been mowing and pulling the weeds in my lawn and shrubbery more regularly.
Before this, our lawn and small garden would become overrun with weeds by mid-June. I'd spend a hot weekend pulling the weeds, filling up waste bags with these invasive plants. These would always be exasperating affairs, with me cursing at the gardening gods.
Of late, I've learned to treat some areas with basic weedkiller sprays, but the best antidote to keeping back the weeds is regularly pulling them. So every weekend, usually early in the morning, I'm outside pulling weeds, for about 30 to 45 minutes. I don't pull weeds everywhere: I pick my spots. One day I'll focus on the area next to the street, and another day I'll pull the weeds in our shrubbery bed.
I do make sure to pull as much as I can (I fill a waste bag about half-way before I call it a day). I use a heavy duty set of gloves, and sometimes I'll use a small trowel. When I'm pulling these weeds, I notice how they can take root in the trickiest of places. I start to think that pulling weeds is my own stand against nature's inevitability.
I have also been mowing the lawn more frequently too. I remember that I used to skip weeks of mowing, to the point where the grass came as high as half-way up my knee. Nowadays, I mow every week. The result: a neater appearance. Combined with the weed pulling, the lawn area is presentable, and it's very satisfying.